


Dancing All Over My Soul

by OohMurder



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: F/M, M/M, SnowBaz, baz teaches simon to dance, dancing fic, finished fic, it's exactly as fluffy as you imagine, it's just A BUNDLE OF CUTE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 13:59:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11922366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OohMurder/pseuds/OohMurder
Summary: Simon needs to learn to dance with Agatha for the Halloween Ball, and who better than Baz?Was that a good summary, worthy of a Mickey Mouse episode? If not, lie and tell me it is.





	1. I

I - Baz

“Baz.”

My heartbeat quickened at his voice, and I could feel a faint blush rising in my cheeks. So weak, I cursed myself, taking a deep breath. With my usual sneer at the ready, I turned around, my eyebrow raised in question.

“Yes, Snow?” I stared determinedly at a light crease on his forehead, slightly clenching my teeth to not look anywhere else. His blue eyes, the stupidly adorable smatter of freckles everywhere, the gentle flush in his cheeks-

Why was he blushing?

“I need you to- to teach me to dance,” he said, stammering slightly as he let his words out in a single breath.

I further raised my eyebrow in unison with the sudden hitch in my heart.

“Training for the ballet, Snow?” I asked, grateful for my wit that hadn’t abandoned me yet, even though all I seemed to want to do was count the freckles on his left cheek.

Snow’s blush deepened.

“No,” he answered, urgency creeping into his voice. “It’s the Halloween ball, and I have to dance with-with Agatha except I don’t, well I don’t bloody well know how to dance, do I?” he finished, exasperated at himself for tripping over his words.

It took a great deal of self-control to stop myself from caressing his cheek and saying it was all right, but I had practice. I could uphold my sneer while thinking about wanting to do unprintable things to him.

“And… you decided to come to me?” I asked, not quite understanding why.

Snow rolled his eyes, and leaned closer. I inconspicuously clenched my hand in my pocket. Snow was going to be the death of me.

“Penny doesn’t know the first thing about dancing, and neither does she have the inclination to go to the Ball,” he said in a flurry, his voice hitching. “But you, I don’t know, you do know how to dance, right?”

My lips parted in shock.

“Aleister Crowley, of course I know how to dance!” I said sharply. What kind of self-respecting Pitch doesn’t?

Snow glanced at my lips for a split second – either that or my sanity had given way and I was hallucinating – and I stepped back quickly.

“Great. You can teach me then.” He shrugged and gave me a slight smile. The fact that my body hadn’t melted was a shock in itself, and I found myself giving him a quick nod. His expression changed to one of surprise, but he switched back to a blinding smile and walked away.

I sat down, leaning against the chair. What the hell had I gotten myself into?


	2. II

II - Simon

Baz was sitting on his bed, looking bored out of mind, as usual. I dropped my books on the desk and turned to him. I could have sworn his eyes had been following me, but now he was closely inspecting his shoes. It must be his vampire reflexes that made him unnervingly fast.

“So, um, ready?” I asked, not liking the idea as much as I had yesterday when I’d asked him to teach me.

He sighed and stood up, looking at me levelly. 

“All right, Snow. Just so that you’re aware, dancing means we’re going to be in close proximity. Don’t go off on me, it was your idea.” His eyes darted across the room and then landed on me. I rolled my eyes.

“I said I didn’t know how to dance, not that I’ve never heard of it.”

It wouldn’t be that bad to hold hands with Baz. My heart suddenly began to thud, and I pinned it down to the idea of dancing with a vampire.

Baz nodded. “That’s a good start.”

He was never going to let go of his sarcasm, was he?

He stepped closer to me, and I fought the urge to move back. My heart was hammering in my ear and I craned my neck slightly to look up at him.

“Pretend I’m Wellbelove and put your right hand on my waist.” I moved my hand to the smooth material of his shirt, and left it there. I felt him tremble slightly and swallowed hard. If he hated it so much, why did he agree in the first place?

“Now clasp my right hand with your left.”

Baz’s hand was slightly smaller than mine and quite a lot colder too. I grasped it firmly and looked back up at him. His eyes were shut. He looked oddly calm with his pupils powerless to gaze at everything icily.

“What now?” My voice had fallen to a whisper, and I wasn’t quite sure why. Perhaps it was because we were already so close?

“Si…” he said breathily. His eyes snapped open. “Snow.” His voice had returned to its cold, unfeeling tone.

I shook my head.

“What?” he asked sharply, frowning.

“You were going to call me Simon,” I said, feeling his hand momentarily grip mine hard before letting go.

He took a step back, moving away from my reach. I let my arm that had been at his waist fall free.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Don’t lie, Baz. You’re not as good at it as you think.” My words surprised me but I didn’t mind. They were true.

Baz narrowed his eyes.

“Are we going to argue about names now, or do you actually want to learn to dance so you can impress your girlfriend at the Ball?”

Agatha.

I ran a hand through my hair and then stepped towards him.

“Okay. Teach me,” I said, holding out my arms. His face softened for a quick while and he grabbed my hands.

“Let’s dance, Snow,” he said softly, his grey eyes glimmering like a cloudy sky.


	3. III

III – Baz

I drew Snow close to me, feeling what was left of the blood in me rushing through my heart at an alarming rate.

I placed his hand back gently at my waist, and held the other hand with my own. His eyes, blue as the calmest skies, were huge and fixated on me with such intensity that I could almost feel it.

I hesitated, and then circled my arm around him. We were so close to each other that we were breathing the same air. It was all I could ever want, and yet, an agonising reminder of what would never be.

“I’m going to lead for now. Just follow me.” My voice was a bare whisper, but it was more than enough to be heard.

Snow swallowed and nodded, his bronze curls flopping on his head.

And I took a step, pulling him with me. At first, he put the wrong foot forward and stepped on me, pressing down clumsily on my toes. I winced, Snow bit his cursed lip, we found each other’s eyes, and never once looked down again.

I’ll be honest, the beginning was close to a disaster, but Snow was a fast learner if you were a patient teacher. And believe it or not, being in love with him gave me infinite patience. Why wouldn’t it, when I could spend all the time we twirled around the room memorising his face, the way the evening sun cast shadows under his cheekbones and his eyes caught the light and glowed like orbs?

“You’re staring,” he breathed, repeating the words I’d thrown at him long ago. I made a noise and fought off a smile.

“I have to, or you’ll make sure my toes are broken enough that I can’t dance at the Ball at all,” I replied.

Snow stumbled, and I drew my arm closer around him, almost hugging him to me. I was certain he could feel the thudding pulse at my hand.

“Who-who are you going with?” he asked. I blanked. It wasn’t as though nobody was willing to go with me. In fact, I was fairly certain that at least three fellow sixth years were camping out front of the tower, hoping I would ask one of them to the Ball.

Between being gay and hopelessly in love with Simon, the idea hadn’t exactly appealed to me.

“I haven’t decided yet,” I said shortly, hoping my voice was cold enough to stop him from prodding further.

What wistful thinking.

“There’s barely a week left, though.” He frowned at me. I sighed and removed my hand from his grasp.

“It isn’t important.”

His frown deepened.

“Besides, I don’t care all that much for the Halloween Ball anyway.”

Unless I went with him.

“Okay, let’s continue,” he said. I look at him, surprised, and nodded.

“Just a moment.” I untangled myself from him and pulled out my wand.

“Sing a song, bing a bong.”

Snow let out an incredulous laugh. “That’s an actual spell?”

I turned to him and shrugged.

“My step-mum used to do it to play lullabies for Mordelia. It plays whatever music you want it to.”

A soft tune filled the room, making Snow smile. I tucked my wand back in and held my arms out.

“Ready? Try to lead now.”

Snow nodded and took my hand. Goosebumps erupted along the length of my arm, making me grateful for the long sleeved t-shirt I was wearing. Snow was biting down on his lower lip in concentration, trailing me across our beds. It was quite a shock that I wasn’t visibly swooning.

The orange glow of the sun had deepened, and Snow was positively shimmering as the room bathed in the last rays of light.

I wanted to memorise the entire moment, or at least have a lasting impression of this. I could have used those cameras Normals had.

“How am I doing?” Snow ventured after a while. I shifted my gaze from the early hints of the moon to his face, my heart beat quickening again. It was getting harder and harder to look at him.

“Hmm. A slight bit better than I expected.” A blatant lie. Snow was born for dancing, regardless of how clumsy he seemed at other times. I thought back to my first time learning to dance, and remembered how I’d fallen over when I had dipped the girl.

“That’s big, coming from you,” he replied, his lips hinting at a smile. I turned away to hide my answering smile.

“Let’s dance for a little longer, then,” he continued. I could feel his eyes on me, but I just nodded. There was a heavy lump in my throat, and if I spent much more time in his arms, and he in mine, I was going to lean right in and kiss his damned lips.

So we twirled half the night away, and Snow danced across the room and over my soul, the moon our only witness, casting a pearly haze over our moving bodies.


	4. IV

IV - Baz

I didn’t have any idea how long we had been dancing in our room yesterday. In fact, I wasn’t quite sure if I hadn’t just dreamt it all. I was still pondering it when Snow walked into the room, clad with books Bunce had no doubt made him check out.

“Baz!” He was positively humming with happiness, and I looked at him with concern, not bothering to conceal it.

“Stop looking so spooked.” He jabbed a finger at my face, a wide grin still plastered onto his mouth.

“Well, that would mark the first time you’ve ever said my name with that expression, Snow.” I looked at him, draining my face of emotion. It was a familiar sensation now.

Snow lifted his hands to his face.

“Look at me, I’m Baz Fucking Pitch,” he said in a ridiculously deep voice.

“I see Simon Snow, and I become stone,” he continued, making an expression that I assumed was a stone face, but he looked stoned, unlike the blank canvas he was trying for.

I stifled back a laugh and looked at him for clues. This wasn’t normal. The smile had been stretching it, but his ridiculous monologue was too far.

“Were you with Bunce before this, Snow?” I asked carefully.

“Nuh uh,” he said, waggling his finger at me. “I don’t want this Snow shit. I am Simon. Simon, okay, Baz? It’s a fucking lovely name, I’ll have you know.” He looked at me with half hooded eyes. I averted my gaze to the infinitely interesting window.

Merlin, help me.

“Very well, Simon. Were you with Bunce?”

“Bunce, bounce, hop, hopscotch!” he exclaimed. I sighed and tried again.

“Penelope Bunce? Penny, your best friend?” I wondered if I should grab him by the shoulders. I then decided not to. Talking to him while he was looking at me like that was hard enough.

“Ah yes, Penny!” he cried. Then his smile crumbled. “I don’t know where she is. Been a day and a half since I saw the lass.”

The lass? Had someone hit him with a spell?

I grabbed hold of his upper arm and turned to him. “Sn-Simon, we’re going to go find Penelope, okay?” He merely looked at me in confusion.

“Penny was looking for you,” I lied. He nodded vigorously.

I half-marched him out into the corridor. Stoically ignoring the curious glances of everyone, I went to stand in front of Mummer’s House. A second year walked out and I quickly halted her.

“Call Penelope Bunce,” I said, nodding at Mummer’s House. She took a quick glance at me and hurried back inside.

Bunce came running out a moment later, her expression shifting from anxious to confused.

“Basil? What are you doing with Simon?” she asked, suspicious as always. I suppose I’ve given her good reason.

“Just- listen to him. He’s raving mad.” I let go of him, but not before Snow looked at me reproachfully.

“Penny!” he exclaimed, that cursed smile making an appearance again. Bunce reached out in wide-eyed concern.

“Oh no!” he said, dancing out of her grip. “That’s the hand Baz held and nobody will hold it ever again!” He giggled as I stared at him, horrified. Bunce looked as though she’d been struck by lightning and rounded on me.

“Why were you holding his hand? Have you cursed him?”

I gaped at her, words failing me for once.

She threw her hands in the air and pulled at Simon’s other sleeve. “For Merlin’s sake, Simon, did anyone curse you?”

“Hmm, curses, curses, all one wants are curses, it seems,” he said in a sing song voice.

“All right, let’s go to the library.” She began to drag Snow along and I stood awkwardly, unsure of whether I was invited or not.

“You too, Basil. If I find out you hexed him, I’ll spell you into oblivion,” she said without turning around.

I quickened my pace and reached the side that didn’t have Snow in an iron grip.

“No doubt you will, Bunce, but I didn’t.”

“Huh,” was all she said.


	5. V

V – Penelope

I sat Simon down firmly at a table that was furthest from the few students in the library. Basil stood leaning against a pillar, looking bored but I could see through that. The set of his eyes and the crinkle on his forehead told me he was worried, though what for, I had no idea. It wasn’t as though he cared about Simon.

Or did he? I filed it away for later.

I shuffled along the narrow corridor, skimming the various books on hexes. I finally chose a hefty looking one that looked like it would contain most of them and went back to the table.

Simon was slumped on the hard wooden surface, wearing a bland smile. Basil watched him out of the corner of his eye while heroically pretending to not give a fuck. I slammed the book on the table.

“All right then. Simon, look at me,” I said, watching him gaze at Basil unabashedly. He gave a start and turned to me.

“What do you remember? Where were you before you saw Basil?”

Simon snorted. “Basil? Leaves? I didn’t see any leaves, mind you.” I looked at him, appalled.

“He doesn’t seem to understand names unless you say it the way he does,” Basil said from the corner.

“Fine. Baz. Simon, what were you doing before you saw Baz?”

“Hmmm.” He paused to stroke his imaginary beard. “I believe I was bestowing my knowledge upon the work our professors seem unable to accomplish.”

“Homework. He means homework.” Basil’s voice piped up again.

“I know.” I strummed my fingers along the table. The idea struck me exactly when Basil turned to me, his eyes bright.

“Charms!” I exclaimed at him. He nodded energetically and pulled open the book, landing on the index.

“He went and did the impersonating spell on himself. I’m assuming he was practising for tomorrow’s test.” Baz’s voice was clipped as usual.

I trailed my finger down the page, and quickly flipped to square in the middle of the book.

“Here it is,” I said, pushing my glasses back. Pointing the hand with my ring on at Simon, I laced my words with magick and spoke clearly. “As you were!”

Simon blinked hard once, twice, then quirked his eyebrows in confusion.

“What happened?”

Baz raised an eyebrow, and leant back against the wall again. The tension in his face was gone, however, and I suppressed the will to stare intently at him. How had I never noticed before? It was as though Baz had tied his life to Simon’s, though I wouldn’t recommend it, not while Simon was busy being The Chosen One.

Simon was glancing between Baz and me anxiously.

“Simon,” I said. “You hexed yourself accidentally.”

He nodded slowly and raised his eyes to mine. “Charms?”

“Yeah.”

Now that the haze had cleared, Simon and Baz were stoically avoiding each other’s gaze. Crowley, this was worse than having to endure Simon and Agatha together. I clasped my hands together briskly. One more second of the sexual tension, and I was going to spell their lips together.

“Um, Simon,” I began. “You wouldn’t let me touch your hand when you were under the spell.” His eyebrows knotted in understandable confusion. Baz had gone utterly still, his eyes slightly wide. I ploughed on.

“You said it was because Baz had been holding your hand?”

“Oh,” Simon choked out. His face had turned red astonishingly fast, and I raised my eyebrows at him. Baz was half turned towards the door, as though he was prepared to flee at a moment’s notice.

“He,” Simon began, his voice an octave higher. Baz’s shoulder twitched. Simon cleared his throat and tried again. “He was teaching me to- to dance. For the Halloween Ball.”

I blinked. They were dancing together in their dorm?

“I have… places to be,” grumbled out Baz and shot out of the library. I vaguely thought this would have been a hilarious situation had I not been so confused. Simon was still looking at me, his expression sheepish.

I rubbed my eyes, hitching my glasses up. “Simon, you should probably finish off your work. I’ll come down later.”

He nodded and managed a nonchalant ‘yeah’, his cheeks still on fire. I walked back up to my dorm, hoping against hope Trixie wasn’t there. My head was pounding already; I didn’t need an extra hammer digging in.

I opened the door tiredly to high pitched chattering. Trixie and Keris turned around, their eyes narrowing as they clung to each other like I was planning to wrench them apart.

I sighed.


	6. VI

VI – Simon

I’d found it hard to meet both Baz and Penny’s eyes the next day. Baz had been doing a better job than me of looking away, while Penny had grabbed my arm and told me to stop being an idiot, which was an immense relief.

I pulled at my collar now, annoyed at how it constricted my throat. I moved to unbutton it.

The door to the dorm opened, and Baz stalked in. His eyes danced across my ridiculously lavish outfit, and he paused.

“Don’t take the button off, Snow.”

I furrowed my brows together, taken aback.

“Why not?”

He rolled his eyes, the sneer back at its place, and tutted. Like a posh Englishman from the eighteenth century.

“Don’t you know the first thing about formal wear?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. I glared pointedly at him. Did he know me?

“Evidently not.” He seemed content with answering himself and slipped his hands into his pockets. I wondered if I should just slip past him and leave him jabbering to himself.

“Your tie will look sloppy. It won’t make the best impression on Wellbelove.”

Agatha, Agatha, Agatha. He thought more about her than I did. Perhaps it was a sign that he would be a better boyfriend.

“Cat got your tongue, Snow?” I forced myself to roll my eyes and take a deep breathe. He wasn’t going to hex me. He couldn’t. Not after that night of dancing like that.

Yet he pretended as though it had never happened.

“Aren’t you going?” I asked, nodding at his clothes. While they were fancy ass pajamas, I couldn’t see Baz going to a ball in them. Me, maybe. Definitely, if Mr Wellbelove hadn’t lent me his suit.

He sat down on his bed, and draped a long leg over the other.

“No, I told you. I don’t care for it.” His lips were set in a thin line and I sat down opposite to him. The mattress stuffing tickled my palms as they rested on it.

“Why not? You dance better than anyone here and I doubt you’re having trouble finding a date.”

I had no idea what I was doing, or why. There was no reason I had to care about whether he went or not, yet… It seemed a shame to let those dance skills go to waste. I saw it on his face that evening, how much he genuinely loved dancing.

“What is it to you, Snow? Go on, knot your tie and find your girlfriend.” There was a biting poison in his voice, and I swallowed before answering.

“I’m not going unless you are. And um, I don’t kn-know how to tie a tie.”

Baz huffed and turned to me, his expression incredulous.

“What were you doing for six years then?” he asked, his glance going to my school tie.

“Penny spelled it to magickally tie itself. I don’t know the spell to do it on this one.”

I thought I saw a small smile play along his lips, but it vanished before I could be sure.

“All right then, give me your tie.” Baz stood up and held his hand out. I looked up at him, noticing the dark hair sweep along his collarbones that stood out starkly against his skin.

I drew my eyebrows together. “Only if you go to the Ball.”

He looked away and then trained his eyes back on me.

“Why?”

I shrugged. “It’s only fair.”

“You make no sense, Snow,” he muttered, half to himself.

I merely crossed my arms, even though it made me feel like a kid throwing a tantrum.

“Fine. I’ll go.” His eyes narrowed. “And sit there watching everyone dance,” he added.

I sighed. This was the most I could do. I handed over the tie.


	7. VII

VII – Baz

I deftly circled Snow’s neck with his tie, both cursing and thanking Aleister Crowley for the second time I was probably ever going to be in close proximity of Snow. At least, until the fated battle where we would try to strangle each other with as much magic we could channel. I had a good idea who would win as well. Not me.

That was for thinking over at night, however, I thought to myself, and tucked it away.

Snow was breathing through his mouth, straining to look down at what I was doing. It was quite a wonder that he didn’t think this was my grand plan to choke him to death.

I drew the last bit of the tie down, and gave it a firm yank. Snow yelped.

“I’m not going to murder you with this piece of cloth, Snow,” I drawled, fighting down a blush as his warm breath engulfed my hands. I should save these cursed activities for when I had less blood in my system.

I let go of him, and stepped back to admire my handiwork. Snow walked to the mirror, cocking his head to the side. He then turned to me with a grateful smile, making my heart flutter.

“Thank you, Baz.”

I nodded, feeling suddenly choked up. Snow looked ravishing in that suit, the hints of gold at the cuffs matching with his hair. His blue eyes looked closer to midnight now, and I thought back to the night I’d taught him to dance. Tawny skin glowed at me. My heart constricted painfully.

“You should head downstairs. You’re fifteen minutes late already,” I said, glancing at my wrist.

The corners of his mouth went up again, this time tentatively. “You will come, right?”

I looked at his anxious eyes and nodded again. If I had to sit in a suit and watch Snow trail his girlfriend across the room, I’ll do it. For him. To get rid of that nervousness on his face.

“Pathetic,” my mind hummed at me.

Snow’s eyes lingered on my face for a moment. I stared back at him with equal intensity. He blinked, then turned around and walked through the door. I ran a hand through my hair, the full force of realisation dawning on me. I sighed, lying back onto my bed. This was going to be an awful night.

***

I buttoned the blazer on, and checked myself in the mirror. My hair was slicked back, and the black of it went well with the blood red of my tie. It was fitting for a vampire.

I spelled my shoes shiny, even though it was completely unnecessary. The thought of how Snow would tell me it was a waste of magic made a ghost of a smile rose to my lips. I shook my head. It was getting easier by the day for Snow to make me smile.

“You’re stalling,” I thought to myself. I took a deep breath and pulled open the door. The entire floor was deserted, as expected. There wasn’t a single student who wanted to stay cooped up here. They were either dancing away ridiculously, or peering through the glass to see who had gone with whom.

My steps echoed back at me as I padded across the corridor towards the stairs. I quickly slipped downstairs and hurried to wherever the ball was taking place. I wasn’t quite sure, as we didn’t have any place for ball room dancing. Perhaps the Mage had magicked up a room. I relied on my ears and followed the music, thinking it sounded lovely, despite myself.

I finally reached the door, and laid a hand flat on the smooth wood. The vibrations thrummed against my palm. With the reassuring feel of my wand in my sleeve, I pushed it open.

The room was illuminated with deep shades of blue and red. The middle had been cleared for the dance floor, where couples attempted to dance. It looked more like they were side-stepping one another’s toes. I hid a cringe and moved towards the end of the room, hoping for decent refreshments.

I walked fast, hoping my desperation was seen more as purposefulness. I certainly couldn’t bear Dev or Niall giving me their smirks while they clutched onto the girls they’d probably sacrificed to the Devil for getting them to come. I debated crawling through the floor, fairly certain no one would recognise me in the lighting before eventually deciding against it; my suit was a gift from Fiona.

My gaze darted across the room, trying to find Snow. Just to see if the dancing lessons actually paid off, I lied to myself.

***

The drinks were ghastly. I swirled the mixture of orange and Crowley knew what in the plastic cup, frowning at it. A hint of gold caught the corner of my eye, and I snapped my head up. Snow stood in front of me, his eyes wide.


	8. VIII

VIII

Simon

Agatha was waiting for me near the stairs, her arms crossed tightly.

“You’re late,” she said stiffly. I nodded and looked at her apologetically.

“I got a bit caught up knotting my tie.”

She inclined her head, and it seemed as though she didn’t really care what my excuse was. I pushed the fretting to the back of my mind. Agatha and I hadn’t been… quite all right in a long while, but I wasn’t going to talk about it, and she certainly wasn’t either. But there really was no point in thinking about what couldn’t be changed. Fixed.

I offered her my hand, and she hesitated for a second before letting me engulf her small palm, smooth against my skin. We walked ahead, her gazing straight ahead while looking completely natural, me half scowling at the door awaiting us, my neck strained at an uncomfortable angle.

I looked at her from the corner of my eye. Her dress was a soft pink as it rustled across the floor. Hair so light, almost the colour of the moon, was draped along her back in a perfectly straight line. Everything about Agatha was perfect. Nothing about me was.

I shouldered the door open, earning another exasperated glance from her. I pretended not to notice, and let her float in.

“Do you know how to dance?” she asked, waving her hand at the room full of couples. I scanned them and bit back a laugh. While my skills weren’t as good as Baz’s, I could do better than stomping not so subtly back and forth.

“Yeah,” I said nonchalantly. She gave me a long look and something in her face softened. She offered me her hands, and I lead her gently to the dance floor. Baz’s face flashed in my mind. I forced it back down, focusing on Agatha.

Agatha

My mind clicked and relief flooded me. I loved Simon; I truly, genuinely did, but not this way. Not in a romantic way.

I had to break up with him.

It wasn’t fair on either of us to not to; I would be miserable pretending to want to be Simon’s girlfriend, and Simon would keep being puzzled and confused and so worried when I didn’t act like I cared. Because I didn’t. And he had every right to know it.

I nearly opened my mouth to say exactly what I was thinking when I caught the expression on his face. A soft smile stretched across his lips, and his eyes shone in the dim lights. He really did want to dance, I realised.

I didn’t want to take that away from him. As much as I didn’t want this relationship anymore, I did want Simon to be happy, and if dancing with him for a while did it, so be it.

I raised my hands to him, willing a smile onto my face. He took hold of them and led me to the dance floor.

Simon’s hand curled along my waist as he held the other pair of our interlinked hands up. My smile became more genuine as he began to step across the dance floor, pulling me along with him.

He did know how to dance. And oh, did he do it well. He beamed at me as we spun around and I felt a twinge of guilt. I shouldn’t be smiling so widely at him; it wasn’t fair to lead him on like that, and then break up. I shouldn’t have danced at all. It clearly made him happy, but how could I make him feel that before saying I didn’t want to be with him?

My smile faltered, and Simon frowned, coming to a stop.

“Are you all right?” he asked, peering at me closely. Beads of sweat collected at my temples.

“I-yes. I just need to sit down for a while,” I said as normally as I could. He nodded and walked me to the tables surrounded by chairs, nestled in the corner of the room.

“I’ll go get some drinks,” he said before strolling off.

I gripped my hands into fists beneath the folds of my dress. I vaguely thought about how I would look in the gentle pink of my dress to the others on the floor, flushed cheeks visible through the lighting.

How they wouldn’t know, and wouldn’t even guess at the sweat pouring down my neck, dampening the back of my dress. Mercifully, my hair covered it, and I leant back further on the chair.

I had to do it now, I realised dimly. I didn’t want to wait a moment longer.

I scanned the crowd at the refreshments table, trying to spot bronze curls in their midst.

Simon and I were the happily-ever-after couple. The one that got books written about, and read to children as hopeful bedtime stories. The Chosen One with the blonde haired damsel.

There were people who wanted that, and while I envied them, I didn’t want it. These years of remaining by his side were me trying. I tried, and I couldn’t. Simon, for all he did, didn’t want this either. I knew him, and quite well at that, and while he tried, harder than I did, he wasn’t all that happy with our relationship. Not that he would ever accept it. Not when all this Chosen One bullshit had been piled onto his head, and he had never had a say in the matter.

It was just yet another thing that was expected of him. He didn’t have the opportunity to shy away from being the Chosen One, and now, being in a relationship with me, he didn’t know he had the option to choose against it. So I had to do it. And I would.

Simon walked up to me, his tie crooked already. I took hold of the glass he was offering me, and gestured at the seat beside me for him to sit down. He obliged, too quickly. I wondered if my face revealed everything.

“Simon…” I trailed, forcing my eyes on his face. I felt myself hesitating and plunged straight in, clearing my mind of any doubt.

“We need to break up.”


	9. IX

IX – Simon

I gaped at her, almost spilling the disgusting drink all over my suit. Mr Wellbelove’s suit. Her dad’s suit.

“What-what happened?” I stammered out, clutching the cup tightly. “Did I do something wrong?”

Agatha shook her head silently. “No. Simon, I- we just weren’t working out. We… we’re better off without each other.”

Confusion swept through my mind. I knew we hadn’t been speaking all that well, but was it bad enough to… break up over? I yanked my jaw shut before I began to hang it open again at her in shock.

A thought clouded my mind, and I gritted out the words. “Is this because of Baz? Are you cheating on me?”

Impatience flitted across Agatha’s face.

“What if I was?” she flung at me.

Sorrow twisted my face, before rage began to burn my cheeks. She sighed and gripped her hands together.

“No, I’m not. I’m not cheating on you, Simon. I…” She sighed again and looked me in the eyes. “Think over it. I’m not happy in this relationship. And I don’t think you are either.”

“Of course I am! Or at least, was,” I shot back, indignantly. We were the couple that was meant to be. How could I not be happy?

Agatha looked insistently at me. “Are you really?”

Anger and sadness and confusion swept through me. I could feel my magic rising up in my skin. Too much, too much thinking.

I got up with a jerk, splattering half my drink on the floor. I could feel Agatha’s eyes following me, but thankfully she remained seated. I wasn’t sure if I could control my magic around her, and I didn’t want to go off on her.

The music, that had once been soothing and calm, now grated in my ears, mocking me. My skin heated again, and sweat began to drench me.

I needed to calm down.

I leant against the cool wall, forcing myself to take deep breaths. Baz’s face popped up in my head again, this time scrunched in concentration as he danced. With me in his arms.

I started, and stood up straight. I needed to dance with Baz. It was the only thing that would keep me from going off.

I half ran across the room, looking for black hair that was most likely slicked back, even though I hated it. I reached the refreshment tables, and dumped the drink in the bin, scanning the crowd.

There. He sat huddled in a corner, glaring down at his drink. I almost cracked a smile before rushing to him. His velvet black suit almost glimmered in the distance, and somehow, it calmed me down.

In three long strides, I was standing in front of him, my mouth unable to form words. I swallowed as Baz lifted his head in a sharp motion.

“Simon?” he asked, shocked enough to see me that he didn’t call me Snow. I just held my hands out at him. He stared at me for a moment, his eyes travelling from my face to my hands, then stood up.

“What about Agatha?” he said, his eyes fixed on my face. I shook my head intently and breathed out one word.

“Dance.”

He looked at me a moment longer, then nodded and set his drink on the table.

“Lead,” I said, nodding at him, and he took my hands, holding them gently. I didn’t seem able to manage more than one word at a time, and that was fine. Dancing didn’t need any words.

Baz swirled me around the room, his face soft for the first time I’d seen him. No, the second time, I corrected myself. He’d looked the same when he taught me in our dorm. The spinning had made some strands of hair tumble down his face, and they swung gently as we moved. I realised I felt the most safe in Baz’s arms.

“You’re sweating terribly,” he tried in a low voice after several minutes of silence had passed.

I merely nodded.

“Do you want to maybe sit down?” he asked. My heart skipped a beat. The break up. We’d sat down. That’s when it had happened. I couldn’t sit down. I looked at him frantically.

“Fine.” He pulled me a little closer and continued to move across the floor, his eyes scanning me for any sign of panic.

But my mind had stopped spinning now, even as we twirled around. I could stand hearing Agatha’s voice in my head, the words she’d said, without flinching. I tried to sort through them, tried to understand what she meant.

I shook my head violently.

“Simon?” Baz whispered. He’d entirely given up on Snow now, and even though it felt broken, my heart leapt every time my name slipped out of his mouth.

I stared at him, the worry in his eyes, the slightest tinge of red in his cheeks after all the dancing, the twines of hair draped along his cheekbones and blurted out, “Agatha broke up with me.”

Baz stiffened to a stop, and I bit the inside of my cheek. I shouldn’t have told him.

“Are you all right? Do you want to go back to our room or…”

He continued talking, but I lost focus. I followed the motion of his lips, and my eyes wandered to his forehead, where he’d bunched up his eyebrows in anxiety…

My mind clicked and relief flooded me. I loved Agatha; I truly, genuinely did, but not this way. Not in a romantic way.

Baz.

It was Baz.

The heart racing, the tingling nerves, the unavoidable desire to smile like a fucking teletubby at him every time… I was in love with him.

Baz looked at me, wide eyed, his cheeks now a glaring red, as I came to realisation that I’d been staring intently at his lips all this while.

I loosened a breath, grasped his cheeks, and stood on my toes. He’d stopped breathing.

Then I leant in and kissed him.


	10. X

X – Baz

My eyes fluttered shut as Snow, no, Simon, kissed me. My mind was blank and I coiled my arms around his warm body. Simon curled his hand around my neck, making me shiver at his touch.

An idle thought ran through my head, and I suddenly jerked my mouth away. I kept my arms around him as he looked at me questioningly.

“Am I a distraction from your breakup?” I asked roughly. Simon blinked at me.

“No,” he said, a little breathless. I smirked at the thought that I’d done that.

“Agatha… she said that she wasn’t happy, and that she didn’t think I was either.” He spoke slowly, as though understanding what he was saying as he said them. “I denied it at that time, but now… dancing with you,” – his cheek gained more colour, if that was even possible – “I realised she was right. I just did what everyone thought was right. Not what I thought was right.”

He looked down, giving me a view of his curls. Hideously beautiful, almost black in the dark room. I removed a hand from his back and put it under his chin, raising his face to look at mine.

“And you think I’m right for you?” A challenge rose in my voice and Simon stared me down, his eyes defiant.

“Yes.”

I leant my head down, pulling him in for another kiss.

Simon’s breath was warm in my mouth, just like every other part of him. He tasted like scones, and unfortunately, the drink I hadn’t been able to take more than a sip of. But the feel of his lips against mine made me feel alive, more than I ever had in my sixteen miserable years of existence.

I vaguely thought about the couples standing around us, probably gaping in surprise, before Simon ripped my attention from them by plunging a hand into my hair and bunching his fist.

I made the dignified sound of ‘eurgh’ in his mouth from pulling back again. He frowned at me this once.

“I… don’t see the point in remaining here. Let’s go to our room,” I breathed.

He nodded, and let go of my neck. Not a moment passed before Simon gripped my hand with his as we shifted through the couples clinging to one another. I squeezed tightly.

I couldn’t stop glancing toward him every second as we made our way to the staircase. I had seriously considered I was dreaming the entirety of the situation, but even I couldn’t think up the intensity of that kiss.

He still had my hand tightly clasped, the contact sending sparks through my arm every now and then. I fixed my glance on Simon now, noticing he was staring at the other wall. Freckles winked back at me, and a mole twinkled in the vicinity of his neck.

Suddenly, he groaned and turned to me, his entire face flushed, even though the air was cool in the corridor.

“I’ve been trying so hard to ignore you just until we get to our room, but now you’re just outright staring at me,” he said.

I blinked, trying the fight the next round of intense blushing. My stomach did somersaults.

“I’m hopeless,” he added, throwing his hands in the air.

I caught at them, and pressed them against the wall.

“Well, that’s a good thing for you, Snow, because I’m hopeless too.” My voice was a throaty whisper as I half leapt on him, crashing my mouth on his.

My nose was digging into his cheek, his suit buttons were pressed against my stomach even through all the fabric, but I kissed him with a fervour I couldn’t believe I had in me.

Or maybe I did. Maybe that’s what happens when you fall in love with your roommate and try to hide it for years.

Simon was softly nudging me with his chin, his eyelashes fluttering against my temple. I sighed into his mouth, and lifted my face to look at him.

“I love you.” I breathed, watching him carefully. Irrational terror clawed at me for finally revealing what I’d kept supressed for years, but I swallowed it back down. Amid the fear, I could feel relief flooding me as well, as a heavy weight lifted off my shoulders.

Simon’s lips – swollen from kissing, making my heart clench – widened into a swift smile.

“I love you too.” He said it as though it were a promise and leant into me, sealing it with his mouth on mine.


End file.
